Tag: painting

Discussions on survival as an independent artist in South Africa
According to the World Economic Forum 15-20 million young Africans are expected to join the workforce every year for the next three decades —begging the question; what opportunities will exist to allow these young individuals meaningful work; work that is challenging, impactful and unexploitative.

Surviving as an independent artist has always been a particularly difficult endeavour. In an increasingly difficult economy thronged with high levels of unemployment and competition, artists find themselves at wit’s end on how to survive while earnestly pursuing their work.

The 2018 South African Wealth Report estimates the global top-end art market for African Art accounts for US$1 billion, of which US$450 million (R5.5 billion) is held in South Africa specifically. The report estimates that South African art prices have risen by 28% over the past 10 years (in dollar terms) far above the 12% rise in global fine art prices. However, the manner in which this creation of value is distributed remains skewed — with very few leading artists at the top; Irma Stern, Maggie Laubser, JH Pierneef, Alexis Preller, Gerard Sekoto, Hugo Naude, William Kentridge and John Meyer. It is unfortunate that the art world mirrors the rest of society in terms of how value is created and how the cake is divided.

What are the tenets of a sustainable career in the arts? In which ways are artists at differing levels of experience and “success” sustaining their careers and their lives? Through engagement and conversations with artists across various mediums and platforms; from those who recently left art school to those with decades of experience in the art world, (specifically fine artists practicing in photography, filmmaking, painting, printmaking, performance art and writing), I fill in this context and my own observations.

What instantly became clear is that pursuing a career in the arts and opting to remain independent requires dedication and commitment and should be inspected through the lens of entrepreneurship.

The blended approach

Many artists opt for the blended approach in terms of how they make money. They seek to work with a range of brands and corporates over and above passion and personal projects. Many are open to part-time work as well as other work outside of the industry as a strategy to supplement income; this ranges from tutoring, baby-sitting, retail and working for institutions and galleries.

A stable source of income is seen as an important component to creating more spaciousness as they work on strategies for a more scalable income.

“The secret to working part time is finding something that grows, teaches and inspires you. Outside of film my first career opportunities came from galleries to create performance artworks – specifically avant-garde Hollywood-genre immersive narratives.” – Emma Tollman (writer, singer/songwriter, actress).

In the same light, some artists are able to fully fund their work and their lifestyles without needing to supplement with additional work. Factors such as; length of time spent in the industry, visibility and a substantial portfolio contribute to where artists find themselves on the part-time/full time artist scale.

“I try to balance freelance and corporate work. Corporate always pays better and on time, but it is often not the most exciting thing. Freelance is often great because you have the luxury to pick what you want to work on.” – Lidudumalingani Mqombothi (writer, filmmaker and photographer).

Additional avenues which can provide a source of income include residencies, prizes and grants from art institutions as well as the government.

Understanding the market

Artists feel the pressure as they tug between making work that is commercial and work that is more honest, a constant negotiation between authenticity and relevance. Commercial work sometimes results in overproduction —prioritising sales over growth and experimentation.

A key observation is that South African art buyers tend to be rigid in terms of what they’re looking for; there are very specific narratives and aesthetics that the market is interested in, making it very difficult for more conceptual and experimental artists to succeed financially.

Brands and corporates are also less open to risk; they gravitate towards artists that already have a strong following and a certain level of visibility —a popularity trap that results in brands approaching the same “trendy artists”.

“Usually those spaces are looking for trendy or cool people or work that is ‘accessible’ in ways that one can exploit the term. There’s a particular aesthetic that such commitments require.” – Nyakallo Maleke (multidisciplinary artist in installation, printmaking, sculpture and performance).

It is difficult to conclude with certainty what factors exactly will result in success. Is it the quality of the work, social capital, seizing opportunities as they occur or merely an air of celebrity? However, we speculate that some level of awareness of industry dynamics and politics allow different artists the ability to navigate with agility and to plan around ways in which they can approach opportunities.

“By grade 12, I was already selling designs and charging consultation fees, I started exhibiting my work in my second year — that became one stream of income. I think diversifying my practice has also helped financially.” – Banele Khoza (Visual artist).

Administrative competence goes a long way in ensuring a more professional art practice, which often has a bearing on the type of work and clients artist work with. Quite simply, these include:
1. the ability to price work fairly and appropriately
2. client acquisition strategies
3. securing a reliable support team
4. sending quotes and invoices on time.
Artwork by Banele Khoza

Thinking for the future

Sustaining an art practice requires investment through time, mentorship and training. A contested issue among artist is the idea of working for free — while some artists use this as a long-term strategy to build a considerable portfolio, others refuse on principle. A resistance towards the exploitative nature of brands, corporates and institutions.

“Sometimes you need to weigh up your options and see what would be sustainable for you to gain; what would be beneficial as an opportunity in the long run. Sometimes you need to turn down a gig, especially if the client wants to underpay you or doesn’t see the value in what you do. It’s also okay to take a break to work a 9-5 so that you can plan further for your future and really focus on where you want to be after that.” – Nadia Myburgh (recent graduate and photographer).

A key theme that emerges is the importance of saving; many of the artist we spoke to mention this is a key learning area in their journey. Saving allows greater freedom where a highly unpredictable and precarious income stream is a reality.

“I’ve learnt along the way to always stay true to what I want to achieve and to let go of fear. I was afraid of how long it would take me to get on my feet without a 9-5 or how I would be able to sustain myself. Sometimes you’re held back by financial constraints as well as time constraints but also by fear. I’ve learnt that I need to be fearless and brave.” – Malebona Maphutse (Printmaker, photographer and filmmaker).

Artwork by Malebona Maphutse

Social Media to generate professional currency

More and more artists are embracing social media as a way to enhance their marketability and reach. They continue to use social media (to varying degrees) as a way to make their work more accessible while drawing in new audiences. “Social media and galleries play an important role in exposing my works to potential buyers; both local and international.” – Themba Khumalo (Visual Artist).

Social media is often the vessel through which many collaborative efforts are cultivated. Artists are pointing to the importance of learning and growing together whilst also alerting each other to opportunities that can be financially beneficial. They are pointing towards ideas of honing your skill and making yourself more marketable and thereby creating a competitive edge.

“Collaboration creates space and a platform for people to share ideas and tackle difficulties. But I think it’s difficult when we are still obsessed with this myth of the genius, we idolise creatives and put them on a pedestal. I think that can be a hindrance to collaboration. You kind of [have] to do your own thing and benefit from it alone, monetary or otherwise, but there is something to be said for collaboration. You can create a bigger network in that way.” – Nikita Manyeula (Masters student at the University of Witwatersrand).

Through this process of conversing with artist about the often, unnamed pains and joys of building a sustainable art practice, I was able to gain some insights into the different possibilities of navigation. Although there are no easy or guaranteed answers, keep in mind the key takeaways; be patient, save money, understand the dynamics of the industry and invest in the work. I am inspired by the idea of celebrating small victories as a way to sustain energy and passion – a simple concept that allows emotional and mental wellbeing.

Artwork by Themba Khumalo
18 September 2018
Janiva Ellis’ visceral paintings comfort as well as unsettle

Transcending both reality and fantasy, Janiva Ellis creates vivid paintings with unconstrained composition where vibrant colours offer a hint of cheerfulness and comfort, while exploring pain and violence.

Ellis is a Los Angeles-based visual artist working primarily as a painter. She creates raw and intimate paintings of contorted, exaggerated, drooping and distorted human and human like forms.

Her representation of figures is not bound by any fixed formality —decapitated heads, floating heads, heads with multiple sets of eyes, internal organs erupting from the body —these depictions are surreal but also a little bit frightening.

“To me, my images aren’t any more violent than many everyday interactions. Any more anguished than they are obliged. The unrest in my work represents a release, a shared sardonic moment of tension and amusement.” – shares Ellis in an interview with Artsy.

Ellis is most known for her dark and absurdist paintings which integrate cartoons and bold colours. In 2017, she presented a series of paintings at New York’s 47 Canal Gallery (Lick Shot) seeking to explore her own experiences of pain – using playfulness as a form of reprieve. Curator Kevin McGarry described the show as “a series of glimpses into the divine comedy of existing in a world where pain is met with doubt; into dynamics that are blatant and never-ending, yet consistently denied their truth.”

Despite the seemingly humorous and playful approach, Ellis’ works acts as a critical framework for exploring deep psychological trauma and the very complex intersections between race and gender. Her work often has an unexpected effect of shock, much like how trauma itself works. “You’re in this pleasant situation, picking up a cabbage, but there’s still a fraught dialogue that happens, whether it be a memory or somethings a stranger says that can feel psychologically eviscerating” she explained in an interview with the New York Times, speaking in particular to one of her paintings; ‘Curb-Check Regular, Black Chick’ (2017). This work depicts a scene at a fruit and vegetable market with one of the character’s insides gushing outside of her body.

Ellis participated in The 2018 New Museum Triennial – an exhibition dedicated to providing an important platform for a new generation of artist shaping the global discourse in contemporary art. This year’s participants included; Cian Dayrit (b. 1989, Manila, Philippines), Haroon Gunn-Salie (b. 1989, Cape Town, South Africa) and Chemu Ng’ok (b. 1989, Nairobi, Kenya) among others. The theme; ‘Songs of Sabotage’ sought to investigate “how individuals and collectives around the world might effectively address the connection of images and culture to the forces that structure our society”. Ellis’ satirical paintings – which seems weightless yet fraught with immerse heaviness – offer a degree of political engagement and continue to build a dialogue around issues of trauma and violence.

Ellis’ work carries a beautiful strangeness and offers us strategies of release through giving form and a new language to pain – disturbing the comfortable and comforting the disturbed.

6 August 2018
Examining Byron Fredericks’ dynamic and relevant paintings

Earlier this year Byron Fredericks presented his second solo exhibition; ‘Dala what you must’, at 666 Broadway in Brooklyn, New York. Dala is a relatively new South African slang word meaning “to do” or “do”— more appropriately applied as “you do you”.

Based on the title, the show takes on two meanings; the call for one to take action deriving from a decision, mood or attitude and simultaneously references the idea of directness, as in “don’t beat around the bush”.

Byron Fredericks is a Cape Town-born visual artist who earned his BFA from The Pratt Institute in New York, where he is currently based. His practice sees him using colour and mark-making to investigate ideas around identity and socio-political issues. Drawing on his own experiences as a “coloured” man growing up in South Africa he interweaves the Cape Coloured dialect into his work.

Fredericks’ work pushes past the traditional borders of painting — actively ripping apart the partition between painting and drawing while inserting text to drive the point home. The works take on the character of hushed activism; activism that is subdued and requires engagement and questioning from the viewer.

The surface of Fredericks’ work does not instantaneously reflect the complexity that lies beneath it. His work moves away from the literal, figurative style as a representation of the political. Flat planes of colour, very simple text and their inter-relationships are favoured over expressive and formalist approaches. He reveals his thoughts by engaging with materials and exploring their properties, and yet remains unbound by these materials. For an international audience, his work is an intriguing gateway through which to engage with political and socio-political narratives within a South African context. Titles such as ‘Gesuip‘, ‘Gympie‘, ‘Jika Zuma‘ and ‘Aikona, Buti‘ can be more effortlessly understood by a South African audience.

Fredericks covers large areas of the canvas with paint and sometimes uses none at all; as with Tall Rich White Dudes (2017) and Die Voice (2018). His paintings are dynamic and versatile, with a wide range of textures and densities. Densities in this sense refer to his layering technique that establishes both a foreground and background to his work. He attributes this to his “loose painting and aggressive mark-making technique composed with texture in mind”. Fredericks is carving out a new visual language for himself. “It’s funny you say that because it’s been my way of proactively figuring out my visual language, which will be even more refined in this new series I’m working on,” he adds.

Through his work, Fredericks is leaving marks and moments of himself everywhere. This positions his own story relative to colour. The surface is buttery and smooth and blends onto the canvas — pinks, blues, blacks and whites are embraced equally. His work succeeds in achieving aesthetic value while arousing our curiosities and challenging our perceptions. What seems fundamentally uncomplicated at first glance, becomes extremely multifaceted.

26 July 2018
Love is a Difficult Blue // Cathartic Moments in Collaborative Practice with Ghada Amer & Reza Farkhondeh

Washes of colour bleed into pools of pleasure. Delicately drawn and intricately articulated. Forms of flesh emerge from thread. The intersection of love and lust. Interjected by a moment of escape from a solitary echo-chamber. Lured by siren call of paint and brush – lifting the veil of separation. Transitioning from viewer to maker. Transgressing from one space to another. Liberation from the binding constructs of one’s own perception, into another dimension.

The moment Reza Farkhondeh put paint to one of Ghada Amer’s canvases he experienced a cathartic release. An instant free from his own practice. At the time she was away traveling,on seeing what he had done, she was initially shocked and upset. However, over time she warmed to the collective piece. Reza described the experience as “a meeting of two minds…You can create and also watch – you are a part of it, but also not.” The dynamic tension between presence and separation is integral to their collaborative practice.

Since the early 2000’s they have explored a relationship founded on trust and reciprocity. While working out of their studio in Harlemthey still maintain individual identities and autonomy while engaging in collaborative space. Navigating this can at times be challenging. However, overtime Ghada and Reza have carved tools to combat conflict. Combined authorship is at the crux of their decision-making process. The two artists flip a coin to see who will place their signature above the other’s and hold a secret ballot to decide which of the works are finished. If the outcome does not reveal two affirmative votes, then the piece is further worked into. These democratic systems are used as effective tools to avoid potential moments of tension and ensure a fair trade.

Their current show, Love is a Difficult Blue opened at Goodman’s Cape Town Gallery on the 18th of January and runs through to the 24th of February.The work explores notions of women and nature as both bearers of life – captured within an industrial patriarchal system of exploitation and oppression. Ghada enlists the female form as an archetypal icon – constructed from an amalgam of images. She uses these bodies, charged with notions of desire, to subvert stereotypes created by the white western male gaze. Intentionally provocative, the figures act as catalysts for conversation around the conventions of art.

Her use of thread and embroidery stemmed from a frustration around not having access to the ‘man’s world’ of painting. In an interview with Brett Littman she recalled that in 1991 she decided that, “in order for me to paint, I would need to come up with my own technique – which was using the traditional women’s technique of sewing.” Reza describes the forms as “mechanical woman” – rooted in reproduction and systematically flattened through the process of embroidery. This connects to the historical erasure of women and female artists in the western cannon – something Ghada experienced in the curriculum while studying at École Nationale Supérieure d’Arts à la Villa Arson in France.

This art school also happened to be the site at which they met, in 1988. At the time, Reza was completing a MFA in video and short film. Prior to his engagement with images of the natural world, he worked on a series called Made in China. The series of oil paintings depicted objects that appeared in Dollar Stores – all worth 99 cents. This was followed by a depressive episode – one which was broken by the conceptual freedom of working with landscapes and the catharsis of collaboration. “I guess what broke me out of this self-doubting period was when I painted on Ghada’s canvas in 2000.”

The two have unified their practice through a process of exchange. Ghada and Reza both begin in their mark-making working independently on individual canvases, once content, this is followed by exchange for the other to imprint upon. Reza remarked on the moments of voyeurism the shared studio enables – allowing brief windows into each other’s work and process. The pair however, are very careful not to disrupt the other’s practice in those early tentative moments – providing space for the work to evolve quietly.

Initially their collaboration was established purely as a visual juxtaposition of medium and style. However, this organically grew into integrated layers – with each artist playfully trespassing into the other’s domain. These moments of slippage occur when Reza traces the female form and Ghada raises her brush to his botanical subjects.

It is in collaboration that the nature of art is revealed – Steve Lacy

30 January 2018
Stark flatness, pale skylines, muddy whites – The Architectural Paintings of Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi

Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi was born in New York City and finished her art studies abroad before settling in South Africa. Inhabiting the role of a multiform artist, she works predominantly in film, performance art, and painting. She has noted before that she regards her paintings as a footnote to her practice. Her architectural paintings present a historical analysis of city spaces that she has occupied over the years.

With a keen focus on establishing a narrative in her work, identity and belonging are two topics she explores in her work as she feels that these are concerns that she faces in her own life. Thenjiwe’s mother is a historian that subsequently led her to an interest in accessing her own history and the history of the places she lives and has lived before.

‘In Plain Sight (After the Tripode)’ 2013

Expressing that her work is rooted in looking at moments in history, her practice began analysing the architecture of Johannesburg and how its current and former inhabitants have with the passing of time, both remembered and forgotten who they are. Buildings have the ability to live for a long time and therefore have specific memories attached to them impacting the way a city is viewed. They therefore act as physical reminders of history.

Thenjiwe’s architectural investigation through paint has a particular interest in the history of apartheid and its effects on the lives of South African’s today. The titles of Thenjiwe’s architectural paintings convey strong emotions towards certain historical monuments from spaces that she has inhabited with titles such as ‘What Is It That You Keep Forgetting (After the Palais De Justice)’ a painting from 2013 that references a law court building in Paris. Her titles are an indication of how she is questioning the relationship that people have with certain building in their surrounds as well as the relationship she herself has. She asks her viewers why they are forgetting their history, or why they choose to remember it the way they do.

‘What Is It That You Keep Forgetting (After the Palais De Justice)’ 2013

Stark flatness, pale skylines, muddy whites, greyish blacks and few colour pops within her architectural paintings act as an identifier of Thenjiwe’s hand. These haunting images that lack a human element simply show identifiable buildings taken over by foliage. These works ask what will happen to these buildings in the future which can be justified by looking at the title of ‘Emergent Phenomena 1 (After SABC)’ 2017, clearly a work speaking about the meaning of the SABC in contemporary South Africa. This can also be seen when looking at ‘In Plain Sight (After the Tripode)’ completed in 2013 that I believe makes reference to the Tripode building in France that was demolished. Is Thenjiwe then predicting or anticipating the fall of the SABC building you might ask? Perhaps, or perhaps she is referring to a desire for restructuring within government broadcasted television.

‘Facility’ 2015

Thenjiwe’s architectural work shows many similarities in style to ‘A Bigger Splash’ 1967 by the artist David Hockney that also carries a strong architectural focus. Elements such as flatness and the use of a muddy colour pallet as well as small colour pops correspond with these works by Thenjiwe.

Her architectural range of paintings asks us about our past and how we view and remember it as well as address issues surrounding identity and belonging. These are concerns that are focal to Thenjiwe as she comes from a mixed parentage and has lived in many places in her life. Her personal opinion is also conveyed in these works with the use of composition that emphasizes isolation as well as the coupling of loaded titles for her works.

21 November 2017
Monica Kim Garza // “You a real ass woman ‘n I like it”

Monica Kim Garza. The Mexican-Korean artist’s paintings and mixed media work depict women with fuller figures partaking in activities such as sun tanning, riding bicycles and lifting barbells bare-breasted. Often the women in her images appear to be going about these activities with little care for the viewer’s attention, and other times their eyes confront the viewer directly. Painted in all shades of brown, Garza’s subtle shading and bold black outlines make the female figures in her works the focus of each image despite their little care for the viewer’s attention.

Her focus on the naked female figure came from drawing inspiration from Native American as well as Inca art and culture. Her father had a deep love and curiosity about these cultures, and Garza spent time in Peru, which is a country which has a rich culture and history with the Incas.

Not there for any viewer’s voyeuristic satisfaction, Garza paints her characters with personalities that come across in their facial expressions and the poses she chooses for them. Her work embraces sexual freedom with no relation to pornographic stereotypes, but simply for the empowering feeling that comes with ownership of multiple forms of pleasure.

Rough brushstrokes reveal the layers of colour that build up on her canvases, creating the distinctive texture that makes her work so recognizable. Her Mexican and Korean roots share a space in her work, with her often pairing Spanish and Korean translations side by side in a painting. Besides these textual references, they also share visual signifiers such as a painting of La Virgen de Guadalupe [title of the Virgin Mary associated with a image kept in the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in México City] hanging on a bedroom wall and women in the kitchen making kimchi [a spicy Korean side dish made with fermented vegetables, usually cabbage].

Self-care comes across as the centre of Garza’s work. She presents women with well-rounded lives – women who exercise, go to the beach, eat a variety of foods, text, spend time with their friends and alone, enjoy sexual encounters and paint.

The message behind her practice can be summarized by the words she painted on one of her artworks, “You a real ass woman ‘n I like it”.

27 September 2017
Serge Alain Nitegeka’s Ode to Black

With wood, cement and light blue, burnt orange and bright yellow paint Serge Alain Nitegeka subtly pays Ode to Black at the Stevenson gallery in Johannesburg.

Ode to Black speaks to the subconscious way marginalised people live, specifically asylum seekers and refugees, which is a theme that runs through his works.

During his walkabout on Thursday the 25th of May, Nitegeka explained how he enjoys disrupting space, much like blackness. Moreover, he explored how accessing spaces tends to be specifically difficult for black migrants. So the gallery space itself is slightly transformed for us to experience this struggle.

Nitegeka delicately contextualised the space so accessing his work is art itself. For example, the “normal” entrance into the space is disrupted by black wooden planks and instead, we are forced to go through an opening in the wall that is shaped like the quarter of a circle, which almost looks like a mouse hole shaped.

The use of wood is prominent throughout the exhibition. Nitegeka told us how his relationship with wood started with the use of wooden second hand shipping crates. Those crates had a history of movement, which easily made a connection with the crossing of black lives between boarders. Moreover, Nitegeka considers wood a malleable material, a flexible material, with freedom because the shape of wood can be altered, just as a migrant’s identity is forcibly changed. Even though this transformation of wood and identity may be brutal, the end result is a beautiful sculpture and a testament to the resilience of the migrant experience.

Nitegeka’s Ode to Black reads as follows:

Black is the colour of mourning and melancholy. Black epitomises stealth; it is central to clandestine ventures and cool lonesomeness. Black is the colour of executive cars, gadgets, accessories and clothing. Eternally beautiful, Black is the colour of the universe, the infinite deep dark unknown abyss. Black is a wormhole, mysterious and ever-receding, absorbing everything around it and revealing nothing. Black is all colours mixed together, perhaps the sum of the visible. Black is the only colour without light, though full and empty.

Black is a colour reserved unto itself. It is comfortable in its own nature, unruffled and confident. It tries very hard to stay anonymous but inquiring eyes are drawn to it; spectators cannot resist it. It is not popular. It reveals little because it is neither warm nor cold. It is an enigmatic pigment.

The colour black presents itself ambiguously in meaning, like the abstract forms in my practice. Ode to Black explores the multitude of meanings that the colour black invites in my work thus far, in paintings, sculptures and installations.

You can experience ode at the Stevenson Gallery in Johannesburg until the 30th of June.

29 May 2017
ZIBAYO – capturing transient moments

I interviewed Valentino Zondi and Lilli Bagradyans who make up the creative duo ZIBAYO.

Durban-born Valentino solidified his call for creative expression when he attended film school, which has contributed to his current work as a photographer and art director. Through trial and error he now finds himself in possession of a CV with work for some of the coolest brands and a few awards. Lilli has found her creative expression within the triangle of architecture, art and music. Having grown up in Germany and being of Armenian origin, she described South Africa as providing a turning point in her creative journey. Having found each other while Lilli was working on an urban project in South Africa, she describes their joint artistic endeavors as reminders of who she is.

Valentino explained that the name ZIBAYO stands for transience. “Everything is transient,” he adds, “moments, encounters, experiences. Everything is transient besides the art we create.”. Through their work they try to conserve the momentary occurrences they experience and witness around them.

Exhibition in Munich

Together they intend to create a new space for art by combining their differences. “We come from nations which have been divided by differences in religion and race. We feel it is our responsibility to usher in a new way of looking at our differences as human beings, the idea of a black man and a white woman working together as a duo is foreign to some minds. It is in that space that we want to create, in a space that confronts and questions our basic frame of thinking,” Valentino explains.

Their joint art practice involves Lilli transforming an element of photographs taken by Valentino into a painting. “We go back [to where the photograph was taken] with the painted element to reframe it into a situation that is identical to the original captured image. In the reframing, the painting is given new life in a newly shot photograph,” Valentino explains. This is all done without the use of post production editing platforms.

Their first series of exhibitions titled HIDDEN IDENTITIES looks at the aftermath of gentrification in parts of Johannesburg. Exploring the lives of the people who once occupied the streets where they are no longer welcome, the first chapter of this series of exhibitions took place in Maboneng where the streets were used as an exhibition space. “This gave the individuals [who were photographed] a chance to see themselves…In our conversations with them when we were creating this body of work, most of them expressed feelings of being isolated and secluded from Maboneng…By exhibiting in the streets of Maboneng and inviting them, we closed that void of being excluded,” Valentino explained.

HIDDEN IDENTITIES then went to London and was presented at the Armenian Symposium: Armenians in a Global Context in April. In London they built the bridge between HIDDEN IDENTITIES and their next project which is going to be produced in Armenia later this year. They then moved on to exhibit at Kosk Gallery in Munich alongside sculptor Max Boström’s project, EXIT THROUGH CONSUMPTION. The exhibition is moving to Rome, and will make its final appearance in Johannesburg again. “We will be adding a few more pieces in the collection. That is how we do it for every city. So when it returns to Johannesburg, it will have more work than when we left.”.

Lilli and Valentino have got plans to expand their joint creative practice by releasing a fashion project that will include photographs taken from different places in Africa.

Check out ZIBAYO on Facebook and Instagram to keep up with their work.

9 May 2017
‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’ – exhibition by artist Callan Grecia

Young artist Callan Grecia, having recently graduated with his Masters in Painting at UCKAR, is exploring the relationship network conditions in a Post-Internet society have on the medium of oil paint. I interviewed him about his show titled These Aesthetics Are Not New (2017).

Tell our readers about the title you chose for your exhibition, ‘These Aesthetics Are Not New’.

The title for the show came from the idea that everything comes from something. There is nothing new in an age of instantaneous access where we are constantly exposed and re-exposed to images like never before. If you look at fashion, music and art, things are cyclical and the Internet is a catalyst for this effect to occur faster and faster. I guess I was also tired of hearing and seeing the same shit over and over, heralded as ‘new’ and ‘fresh’ until you do some digging and see that you can’t really escape the languages of visual literacy that have been engrained in us consciously and subconsciously.

Tell our readers what the exhibition was about.

I’ll be honest I can’t really pinpoint things in that way because this exhibition seems to be the first step in a larger, longer process of exploration and learning, but I can say that the work deals with ideas of wish fulfillment, brought about by the instantaneous access of the Internet. The image object is also a concept I’ve been exploring, basically the image as object and the object as image and the convergence of the two (digital media and physical painted works). The work becomes a vehicle for network conditions in that it takes from this space, replicates digital aesthetics in a physical space and is then able to either be reintroduced into the digital space, or not depending on how and where the slippages between the two occur.

What are some of the Post-internet conditions/cultural aspects that you have focused on for your exhibition? Tell our readers about your decision to use paintings, t-shirts, installed elements and an immersive sound piece in your exhibition.

Curatorial considerations to include these elements were based on the feedback loop of the Internet, and the t-shirts with prints of the paintings on the walls on them, coupled with installed vinyl that spoke to internet slang, blaring rap music and cellphone notifications created this immersive, layered space that replicated the speed and frantic nature of the world within the screen.

Tell our readers about your decision to live stream your exhibition on Instagram.

The instagram live stream was essentially the last layer, which became the re-induction of the work into a digital space. It also provided instantaneous access to the paintings but with a heavy digital grain that changed the way the works would be read IRL. It was a conscious decision that paid off conceptually and also had the advantage of allowing people who could not make the opening night a chance to see the show from their own spaces.

What were some of the responses to your work at the gallery vs on Instagram?

The abstraction came into its own for the viewers who got to see them in the flesh and the figurative work was what got the most attention on instagram. The grain of the digital tends to have a flattening effect and the devices these images are viewed on lend themselves to figuration. You can’t really pick up on the intricacies of the abstract works on instagram, or feel their size, presence and depth, whereas you can easily recognize and appreciate figuration, I believe, on a mobile platform.

Check out Callan’s online catalogue to see more of his work or follow him on Instagram to some of his work’s in progress.

29 March 2017
Sikelela Damane’s exhibition State Of The Nation Address (SONA) – “Speaking the truth should not be substituted for being radical”

As the high priestess of soul, Nina Simone said, “You can’t help it. An artist’s duty as far I’m concerned, is to reflect the times.” This is exactly what artist, Sikelela Damane achieved in his current exhibition titled, State Of the Nation Address (SONA).

From the historical removal of the Cecil John Rhodes statute at the University of Cape Town to the dodging of rubber bullets while peacefully marching in the streets of Johannesburg, Sikelela was initially inspired by the South African student Fallist movements and how they have “commercialised being ‘woke’ and addressed complex patriarchal and racial constructs.”.

Sikelela deliberately represented the students asking for free decolonized education as “heroes of our generation” instead of being in a state of melancholy since they are a group that is both marginalised and frightened.

Moreover, it is the chunk of land that Sikelela layered on the floor of the Kalashnikovv gallery that speaks to the state of a nation that is frightened about its mission to address the struggles of the marginalised.

Land is a deeply contested issue in South Africa and Sikelela’s idea to address this issue in his work began when President Jacob Zuma stated that the main objective of his government would be to re-address the land. Even though, Sikelela suspects the President’s main objective is to end his term with the affection of Black South African’s, Sikelela seized the opportunity to metaphorically engage with relationship between land and Black labour.

It was in the process of excavating land from outside the gallery and moving it inside that was emotional for Sikelela. “I felt laboured, hard laboured in particular and reminded of Black Labour and how Black males and females in this country became cheap exploits to nourish and pamper this land.” In addition, the accidental displacement and replacement of Sikelela’s land installation helped him further speak to the illusionary ownership of South African soil.

“I like to think of myself as not of a radical but an artist who simply paints the truth. What is a radical, and to whom? Speaking the truth should not be substituted for being radical. And it’s assumed that radical equals being a fighter, an anarchist. I say I paint out of love and hope”, said Sikelela.

In his exhibition currently on at the Kalashnikovv gallery, Sikelela does more than paint. He sues acrylic, aerosol, markers and earth on canvases. He also uses objects such as land and a tyre to address the state of the nation.

Check it out the art walkabout this Saturday or see his artwork on Instagram.

23 March 2017
Portraying greatness – Visual artist Kasen Midichi

Ghanaian-born Kasen Midichi has always found art as the easiest way to express himself. Initially discouraged by understandings of art as work for “lazy people” within his community, he re-discovered his love for creating visual magic when a friend asked him to create a piece for a store.

His paintings portray celebrities, public figures and well-known artists – people he thinks made it to the top within their specific field. In his painting one can identify who he is portraying, but the red skin and big eyes make the work recognizably Midichi, creating a sense of the familiar yet unfamiliar. In explaining to me his obsession with reading and watching biographies about those he considers the best in their fields, he also confessed that he has always wanted to be associated with that greatness. As a way to do this he inserts Midichi at the end names of the figures that he paints in the titles of this works.

As a man who enjoys literary indulgences, he is currently working on a painting inspired by the line “I’m like everybody else: weak, full of mistakes, but basically good” from the book This is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz. In the same way that readers create images of characters in their minds, Midichi is trying to transfer these words into a visual language. “When I read a line that intrigues me, I want to paint that scene of how I see it in my head regardless of what the author had in mind,” Midichi explains.

Go to Midichi’s Instagram page to check out more of his work and to keep an eye out for his website.

Pollock Midichi

Basquiat Midichi

3 March 2017
Racism in Art is sometimes Okay? The artist challenging current understandings of Blackness, Mxolisi Vusi Beauchamp

Artists are the mirror to the wonders and horrors of our society! They reflect the state of ideas and beliefs in 2 dimensional forms. Yet, when this mirror becomes an act of controversy, very often artist’s freedom of speech are not enough to protect the artist from being silenced by the very society that they are meant to serve. South Africa’s new speech bill might even make it illegal to “make fun of” the president, making artists like Zapiro guilty of hate speech.

An example of such artistic induced controversy is of Kanye West’s use of the confederate flag on the jackets that he designed. For Americans the confederate flag suggests a past where black people were justified in being dehumanised as slaves. For Kanye his use of such a racially embedded image has been incorporated into his politically driven fashion line to change its meaning for his benefit:

“React how you want. Any energy is good energy. The Confederate flag represented slavery in a way. That’s my abstract take on what I know about it, right? So I wrote the song ‘New Slaves.’ So I took the Confederate flag and made it my flag. It’s my flag now”.

Are artists ever justified in using images that pertain to a racially injustice past?

This would be the question that I asked myself when first coming across the controversial works of Mxolisi Vusi Beauchamp. His works feature the constant reference to the racially loaded image of Coons and gollywogs on his colour and politically infused canvases. With their oil black faces and exaggerated white or red lips, these loaded images have historically been used to degrade and insult black people. They do this through the use of racial characterizations that serve a white supremacist understanding of ‘the other’ as inferior thereby pushing an anti black sentiment .

Yet through his works I would also see a more nuanced message at play. The black and white image of a boxing Nelson Mandela, beside him are floating coon heads and the graffitied word ‘terrorist’ with a question mark below is characteristic of Vusi’s style.

His works are not just simply the degradation of a black self but are also speaks to the contradictory nature of the black experience and under a white supremacist gaze we can easy move from ‘swart gevar’ (‘black danger’) to leader of a nation. Yet his works also speak to the contradiction of black life in South Africa. With our globally praised constitution that grants all peoples in this land equal human rights there are still black people being subjected to racist treatment and are still being referred to as ‘Kaffirs’ in our so called ‘new’ and racially liberated South Africa.

I would get to speak to Vusi and get to hear his explanation of his works and the South Africa that we are living in today.

Motlatsi Khosi (MK): Please could you tell the Bubblegum readers a bit about yourself and how it was you become an artists.

Mxolisi Vusi Beauchamp (VMB): I was born and raised in Mamelodi. I studied printmaking and painting at the Tshwane University of Technology. I then studied Graphic Design at Damelin and have since worked as an artist, art director, and multimedia designer.

MK: On the Kalashikovv website you describe your works as being a “comment on social issues and on the politicians and events that make up the south African social landscape”. Please can you explain some of the issues that your work address as well why choose to use your current art medium to express these issues?

VMB: My recent solo Exhibition titled “Terrorist” comments on the frequent occurrence of grammatical errors on national protest placards in the new dispensation. In my understanding, this phenomenon speaks of a shift in protest culture, as opposed to demonstrations organized just before the ANC was inaugurated. Protest was deliberate, organized, mandated and depending on which political left you belonged, it was generously funded, and was therefore, carefully considered. New and young protest voices today are sometimes misguided, lack responsible leadership, and continue the culture of, “we have nothing to lose but our lives.”

MK: When visiting your exhibition what first caught my eye was the use of “coon” iconography. Please explain the use of such imagery that represents a racist stereotype of black people?

VMB: Once more I return to the controversial and outrageous usage of stereotypical renditions and interrogate the new readings of the binaries of civilized and uncivilized. This is demonstrated in the recurring images of monkeys and its association with key political leaders in my work Philanthropist, by using exaggerated ‘negroid’ features in the colonial tradition of the Enid Blyton’s books that feature golliwogs. Yet, unlike Zapiro, I remain accountable and mindful of a derogatory interpretation of raced and gendered politics.

MK: In using such anarchic images of ‘the coon’ are you not perpetuating an understanding from the past of black people that many black struggles have worked hard to overcome?

VMB: The “coon” imagery is still very much alive today, you see it in music videos from the likes of “Die Antwoord” Fatty Boom Boom where he darkens the skin of black actors and more recently the Chinese detergent advert, a black man walks in and gets ‘washed’ a different colour. My works continue to use use the image of the ‘coon’ so as to take away the power it has over black Africans and expose its legacy that continues to this day.

For more work by Vusi visit Kalashnikovv Gallery website. He will also be doing a solo exhibition at the Johannesburg art Gallery in 2018 so keep a look out for him there.

6 December 2016